


Sleepless in Skyhold (Part III)

by SisterAmell



Series: Sleepless in Skyhold [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullenlingus, Dalish Origin, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterAmell/pseuds/SisterAmell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before she can respond, he touches his lips to hers, drawing in her warmth as if it were his lifeblood. His hesitation melts away with their kiss. He transitions her gently onto her back and moves between her knees. Her petite breasts are beautifully peaked, her slender waist is expanding and contracting with excited breaths, while her thighs hug Cullen's hips. He loves how keenly her body reacts to his attentions; his every touch has her writhing feverishly. He slips down, marking his path with wet mouthfuls as he traverses her form, revelling in the taste of her neck, her breast, her navel. When he reaches her hip, she jolts.<br/>“Steady, my lady,” he warns with a smirk. His hands cup her haunches and hold her still. “I haven't even started yet...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Skyhold (Part III)

Cullen wakes to an unfamiliar sensation. Instead of the brisk mountain air filtering in through the holes in his ceiling and the cold touch of the sheets, there is a strange warmth permeating his bed. Memories of the previous night have yet to realign in his mind. He is disoriented and half asleep when he rolls over, but as soon as he catches sight of the source of the heat he snaps to alertness. There, curled up beside him, bare and bathed in the glow of the sunrise, is the Inquisitor.

A flood of emotions engulf Cullen as he stares at her sleeping form, reminded of her passionate kisses and the throbbing perfection of being inside her. His breath hitches in his throat. For the first time, he beholds her naked in the light of day, and it is far more beautiful a sight than he has ever imagined. Blood rushes to his loins and stirs his need all over again. Petani rests upon one side, with her milky thighs hitched up, accentuating the curve of her backside. One of her arms is hooked underneath the pillow, while the other drapes delicately over her stomach. Her perfect little breasts are pressed together and swelling with every draw of her breath. Cullen is transfixed. She is so slender, elegant like an august doe, and flawless in every detail. It is difficult to remember how she usually looks when she is decked in armour and brandishing her mighty bow, or sat upon the throne of the Inquisitor to render judgement to half of Thedas. Right now, she is small and vulnerable. The Commander aches inside just to gaze at her.

He does not know how many minutes have passed when Petani eventually begins to stir. Despite his helpless arousal, Cullen has simply been frozen in wonder. The wrinkle of her nose and languid stretch of her back bring a smile to his face. She opens her eyes. Jewelled irises wider than her pupils in the soft light move to greet him, and recognition melts into delight.

“It's you,” she breathes, smiling sleepily.

Cullen's heart flutters at the innocent remark. He chuckles, heady with adoration, and tilts his head to one side. “It is.”

A hint of shyness appears on her face. “Good morning,” she says awkwardly.

“Good morning indeed,” smirks Cullen. The sight of her sudden timidity rouses his dominant side. He feels emboldened. He reaches over and runs a hand along her jaw, caresses her neck, and rests at her collarbone. Petani's lashes flutter at his touch. “I'm glad you stayed,” he whispers.

Her lips part slightly as she glances down at the Commander's exposed, erect manhood. “Oh, Cullen...” It is an utterance thick with desire. A pink blush climbs her cheeks and her respiration deepens.

With his pulse thrumming in his ears and heat engulfing his lower body, Cullen curls his arm around the woman's waist and draws her to him across the sheets. His knee slips between her thighs. Petani arches into him, hooking one leg over his hip. When their abdomens touch, they mirror a sharp, quivering breath. The contact between her smoothness and his rough, scarred skin is the perfect combination, introducing the most incredible sensations to each of them. Cullen strokes her soft back all the way down to her buttock, which he then grips in a firm hand. It is deeply satisfying to hear her gasp as their hips collide, his arousal thrusting against her.

He growls low in his throat, reeling at the sudden wetness of her folds upon the underside of his cock. He rubs up against her greedily. Even being trapped between their bodies like this, grazing her coarse hair, his manhood throbs with pleasure. From the way that Petani is grinding on him, it is clear that he is not the only one enjoying it. Cullen takes a hot bite of her throat and feels her wilt. His fingers tighten around her backside, crushing her more firmly against himself, increasing the friction and squeezing his length to the point of pain. He wants more. He needs more. He delves into the Inquisitor's neck, kissing and sucking on her flesh like a man possessed, and his hungry growls are met with Petani's earnest pleas that he may never stop. She claws at him, dragging him closer, her head falling back to make way for his kisses. The way she hums and pants, the need with which her fingers bite – she sets Cullen on fire.

“Never leave,” he breathes haggardly on her throat. “Never...”

“Cullen...” she gasps, arching sharply into his burning touch. “Mmm... Oh...”

The Commander seizes her face with both hands and brings their foreheads to touch. His darkened eyes lock with hers. His entire body is taut, like a coil ready to be sprung, and every part of him is pulsating. He clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nostrils as he faces the Inquisitor. “I want to...”

There is a deceptive innocence in Petani's gaze. Deep inside the green and brown, the angel light is wreathed in flame. In the most sensual tone that Cullen has ever heard, she tells him: “You can do. _Whatever. You. Want._ With me...”

He shivers to the tips of his toes. She is smiling at him, daring him to take her offer. Her soft feet caress his calves while her fingers toy with his chest hair. Cullen is terrified of the freedom she has given him; his darkest desires and most private fantasies are fighting to be unleashed, and this beautiful creature is entrusting herself entirely to his whim. In the sacred dawn light, her every detail revealed to him, Cullen wonders how something so pure can be profaned with his desires.

“Maker, you are beautiful,” he murmurs. “To... to see you like this- ah, why won't the words come?” He grimaces at his own inability to express himself. And then a verse of Dalish song rises to his mind – something that he has read a thousand times since she came into his life – and his lips curve into a smile as he whispers: “Petani, whose heat rivals Elgar'nan's light. Petani, whose temples rival Mythal's cities. Petani, whose breath rivals Andruil's spear. Petani, whose skill rival June's craft. Petani, whose fire cannot be quenched... I give myself gladly to your service.”

“The Song to Sylaise...” she breathes in amazement.

Cullen lifts his finger to trace the Vallaslin that marks her skin. “You are a goddess, and I would blaspheme a thousand times to tell you.”

Before she can respond, he touches his lips to hers, drawing in her warmth as if it were his lifeblood. His hesitation melts away with their kiss. He transitions her gently onto her back and moves between her knees. Her petite breasts are beautifully peaked, her slender waist is expanding and contracting with excited breaths, while her thighs hug Cullen's hips. He loves how keenly her body reacts to his attentions; his every touch has her writhing feverishly. He slips down, marking his path with wet mouthfuls as he traverses her form, revelling in the taste of her neck, her breast, her navel. When he reaches her hip, she jolts.

“Steady, my lady,” he warns with a smirk. His hands cup her haunches and hold her still. “I haven't even started yet...”

He moves lower. His smile freezes as he beholds her most private place for the first time. A thread of dark hair, a swelling mound, and the moist pink of her feminine lips. Cullen moans at the dizzying surge of fire that ravages his body at the sight. He feels his balls tighten, the head of his cock pulse dangerously. She looks so wet. Her folds are parted slightly, like a rosebud almost ready to bloom, heavy with dew.

“Maker, give me strength...” he utters reverently.

And he tastes her. The tip of his tongue dips into the curled hood of her clitoris. The resulting keen and violent jerk that he earns are so wonderful that he almost comes. He shudders all over, hungry for her taste. Pushing her hips back into the mattress, he takes a messy mouthful of her bud. He hums with pleasure, launching Petani into another peal of musical sounds. Her slickness draws him in. He suckles on her tiny organ, circling it with his tongue, lapping at it noisily. The elf girl is shuddering uncontrollably, and Cullen is a man possessed. With his lips pressed up against her flesh, he sighs, hot, into her folds. His tongue slides down the glossy trail and finds her entrance. Flattening his body to the bed in an attempt to crush his raging arousal, the Commander drives his face in between her thighs and rubs his bristled cheeks all over her sensitive skin. She mewls and gasps as his tongue penetrates her.

“Cullen! Oh, _OH!_ Yes...”

Growling like a beast, Cullen drags her to the edge of the bed, where he sinks to his knees on the floor and hitches her slender legs up over his shoulders. His length twitches for his attention. Removing one hand begrudgingly from his lady's thigh, he gives himself a few light strokes to ease his arousal. The touch makes him huff sharply, and his breath teases Petani's sensitive skin. She squeals with delight. Cullen cannot hold back the smile that her reaction elicits. She is enchanting – the object of both his purest affection and his darkest lust. With his head spinning, he closes his eyes and burrows in for another taste of her. His tongue snakes inside, seeking her most elusive nectar.

“Mmmf!” he grunts appreciatively amid her petals. The sound seems to increase her pleasure, since her fingers drive through his hair and grip onto him tightly, as her back arches up from the bed. He chuckles. “Does that feel good?”

Peering up at her, he catches her steamy gaze. Her cheeks are dark and shimmer with perspiration. She nods breathlessly. Cullen grins and dives down into her treasure trove once more, growling and moaning deeply as he feasts on her. Her hips roll, her head drops back, and Petani calls out to her elven gods with an ardent shout. Cullen intensifies his efforts, jealous of those whose names grace her pleasured tongue. He wants – he _demands_ – his own name from her. Until he hears it, he will show no mercy. Hot fingers join the barrage upon her gates, slipping in beneath his tongue and punishing her for crying out to another being. While he drives in violent rhythm in and out of her with two curling digits, he sucks on her clitoris. His tongue spreads the hood, slapping it, rubbing it, coating it with his saliva, and he can feel it releasing its own juices. She has him in a tight lock between her thighs now, and her fingers are rigid at his scalp. The way her body rocks and trembles and swells tells him that she is almost there.

“Ah! I'm- I'm...” her broken voice is squeaking. “Cullen! _Cullen!_ ”

He is ravishing her with ferocious mouthfuls, pumping her with his fingers, groaning loudly with every beat. His teeth nip her skin. His tongue massages her briskly. He can taste the creamy head of her cum and it is incredible. Wet heat. Her rush of breath stops. A sudden seizure of muscle and sinew, and she climaxes uncontrollably around his fingertips. Cullen buries his face in her and rides through the contractions, tasting every glorious moment of her orgasm. He strokes her soothingly and kisses her mound, then makes her quiver with a cheeky lick of her organ. Petani lies trembling on the edge of the bed for several moments after the last wave.

“Maker's breath...” gasps Cullen, gazing at her wet body in awe. He licks his lips and heaves himself up onto the bed beside her. His erection is thick and bulging with dark veins, aching for sweet relief, but the Inquisitor is in a daze. He lies next to her for a time, simply holding her and listening to both of their haggard breaths easing back into normality. Perhaps she is done for the day. She sounds exhausted. He could not blame her if she were to fall asleep here. If that happened, Cullen would simply tend to his own arousal and then settle in with her to rest until it is time to go about his duties.

Petani rolls over onto her side to face him. Her post-coital blush is simply radiant, and the stray hairs that cling to her cheeks with perspiration only add to the perfect sight. She smiles at him. “Where did you learn to do _that_?” she breathes.

Cullen laughs hoarsely, scooping her into his embrace. “I take it you enjoyed it?”

She nods. Then her smile grows mischievous. “I happen to know a few things, myself,” she says coyly. A little bite of her lower lip. A flourish of her lashes. “I've never had the chance to put them into practice, but... for _you_...”

The look in her eye sends Cullen's heart thundering all over again. He watches as she eases herself into a position over his legs and pulls her hair back in a swift pin-up. She leans down to dust her breath over his abdominal hairs. Cullen shivers. Heat gathers in his lower body, refuelling the anticipation of his engorged cock and hardening it fully in an instant. His jaw has gone slack, his eyes round. Petani's smile is positively _dangerous_.

 


End file.
